


Vested Interest

by YanderexBabydoll



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Mild Smut, Post-Time Skip, Sexual Coercion, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll
Summary: “I needed the full drafts half an hour ago.”Your cheeks heat, “Akaa-”He raises a finger and you fall silent with a wince, shame pooling in your gut.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 227





	Vested Interest

**Author's Note:**

> I am a simp for Akaashi and that's that on that 💕

You’re screwed.

You are totally, one hundred percent, without a doubt, royally _fucked_.

It’s gone. The storyboard, your first draft… the files are gone. Not corrupted, not half finished, not saved over - gone, liked they never existed in the first place and you have no idea how it happened.

Akaashi’s gonna kill you.

The drafts were due twenty minutes ago, and you’re still at your desk, frantically scribbling away at your sketchbook. It’s not nearly the quality you’d like, and your heart breaks when you think about the work you were supposed to present him, but you just can’t go in empty handed. He might fire you on the spot, but you won’t go in with _nothing_.

It doesn’t help that you’ve felt that piercing gaze burning into your back for the last hour and a half. 

“Y/N?”

Your hand stills, eyes slowly drifting up as your heart pounds in your throat.

Akaashi’s still in his office, sitting behind his desk. He doesn’t have to yell - everybody else has left for the night. _He_ should have left for the night, but he’s stuck around to wait for you. 

A single finger beckons.

Your eyes flicker back down to the page, and a trembling hand brushes the last of the eraser shavings away. It’s not your worst work by far, but it’s not enough, you know that even as you grab your sketchbook and stand on shaking legs. You take a deep breath, holding the sketchbook in front of you like it’s a shield as you cross the empty office.

For a moment, those gunmetal blue eyes just study you, and you fight the urge to shift and fidget. His face gives nothing away - not displeasure or anger, but also no hint of sympathy. Akaashi’s never been one to yell, but the blank stare is equally unnerving.

You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to talk, to try and explain yourself because you both know you’ve fucked up and missed the deadline, but at the same time you can’t seem to find the words. You saved the files and backed them up, you _know_ you did, but they’re just gone - yet blaming technology sounds like an excuse and a piss poor one at that. He might not exactly be an open book, but you know Akaashi well enough by now to know that he’s not one to appreciate those. 

“Show me,” he eventually says with a sigh.

Wordlessly you hand the sketchbook over. The silence in the room is deafening as his eyes flicker over your hurried work. The corner of his lip twitches downwards and he hums, adjusting his glasses and turning the page. Your stomach drops and you find yourself nibbling on your bottom lip - even for Akaashi, it’s not a good sign. 

The seconds drag as he examines the final page before setting it down on his desk with a low exhale. He leans forward, long, slim fingers finding his jaw as he appraises you once more. His jacket’s slung over the back of his chair, tie loosened, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his hairs mussed like he’s run through it more than a few times with his hands - he looks a little less put together than usual. There’s a hint of tension in his brow, and with a bitter pang you realise that it’s probably stress - stress you’ve undoubtedly added to. 

“I needed the full drafts half an hour ago.”

Your cheeks heat, “Akaa-”

He raises a finger and you fall silent with a wince, shame pooling in your gut. You brace yourself for it, for the final blow. He’s going to fire you and you can’t even blame him for it. Late work, missing emails, you can’t explain any of it but you know how it _looks_ and this job, this industry is so cutthroat, but… this is everything you’ve worked for.

This is your dream, and you can’t bear the thought that you’re about to lose it.

And it’s not just this job. If he cuts you loose here and now - you’re done. Word travels quickly in industries like this. No other publication company worth their salt will touch you if you get fired because you couldn’t cut it here. You can kiss what’s left of your career as a manga artist goodbye for good. 

You _can’t_ lose this job - it might just kill you.

“Do you like working here, Y/N? Working with me?” he asks after a beat. You nod your head vigorously. Akaashi’s been a godsend. He’s not a tyrant, nor is he a bully. He’s been the first boss you’ve ever had that’s really taken an interest in your work, and you really, really don’t want to lose that either.

He holds your gaze for a long moment, and sighs again. “You know that _I_ was the one to push for the company to hire you. _I_ stuck out my neck and took a chance on you because I believe you have talent, but if you’re not going to take the opportunity and work for it, then-”

“Please!” 

Akaashi’s eyes widen at your outburst, but you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Your hands are curled into fists and shaking at your side and you can feel the traitorous sting of tears in the corner of your eyes, but you can’t just stand there and let him fire you without saying a thing. You won’t defend yourself - there’s nothing to say, nothing that will make missing the deadline okay - but you’ll beg on your damn hands and knees and kiss his proverbial ring if that’s what it takes.

Yet aside from a lone brow quirking, your boss makes no move to stop you from speaking. It’s as much of an invitation as you’re gonna get.

You lick your lips, take a small step forward and try again. “Please, Akaashi. I love this job, I-I don’t know what happened with the drafts I saved, and I’m so, _so_ sorry, but I swear to you I’ll do better. I won’t miss another deadline, I promise! And I-I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that I’m dedicated to this job and the magazine, just please… give me another chance, I’m begging you.”

Fingers drum across his desk. “I want you to do well here - you know that, don’t you?” he asks.

Again, you nod and the faintest flicker of a smile curls at his lips - then again, maybe it’s just a trick of the light because the moment you blink it’s gone and the cool mask of indifference is back in place.

“Good,” he says, and the words however dry don’t fail to make your stomach flutter. 

It’s rare for Akaashi to give straight out praise, and it can barely even be counted as that, but for the first moment since you walked through the door you get the distinct feeling that he’s _pleased_ and the part of you that’s so desperate to do well and meet his expectations just preens at it. 

“… If I decide to look past your recent behaviour and give you another chance,” your heart leaps into your throat, hope blooming in your chest, “you and I will be working a lot more closely so I can keep a better eye on you. I want to see your dedication, your drive. I want you _one hundred percent committed_ , can you do that for me, Y/N?”

There’s something slightly odd about his voice. It’s a touch deeper than usual, a little… rougher maybe, and there’s a strange intensity in those dark eyes of his that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before but you’re far too focused on the second chance he’s dangling in front of you to really pay attention to any of that.

“I’ll do anything. I-I’ll come in early and stay late, I’ll work weekends, whatever you ask, just…” _Please don’t fire me_.

This time you’re sure that you’re not imagining the smile that grows across your editor’s face. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Relief floods through you so strongly that you almost collapse with it, but Akaashi isn’t done.

“But,” he says quietly, pushing his chair back so he can stand and make his way to the other side of his desk. He leans against the edge, hands braced either side of his hips and stares at you with a crooked smirk, “I want something from you first. I don’t give second chances lightly, Y/N, and I _don’t_ waste my time with those who aren’t properly invested. So I’m going to need something - a first hand demonstration, I suppose - of your commitment to giving this job, and by extension, _me_ … your all.”

Your own barely there grin falters. 

You like to think that you have good instincts, that your gut is right more often than not and right now there’s an uneasy fluttering in your heart and a tightening in your stomach that has warning bells ringing in your head. Akaashi has never been anything but polite to you - a little reserved, maybe, but he was your boss not your friend, so that was kind of to be expected.

Except there’s no trace of the patient mentor you’ve come to respect in the man standing before you, and definitely he’s not looking at you like you’re his junior staff. No, as Akaashi’s smirk widens and he laughs softly, you get the distinct impression that he wants to eat you _right_ up.

You gulp, taking a minuscule step back. Those cool, gunmetal eyes follow you like a hawk, but he makes no move to stop you. “W-what kind of a _demonstration_?” you ask.

Lazily, his eyes drift downwards, letting you follow until you see _exactly_ what he’s trying to communicate. It takes a fraction of a second for you to notice the distinct bulge in the front of his pants, and another for your bewildered, petrified mind to connect the dots, but when you do-

“You want me to suck your _dick_ in exchange for my job?” you snap, jolting away from him like he’s about to start spitting venom at you.

Akaashi laughs, shaking his head, “Oh god, no! What kind of a man do you take me for? No, I would _never_ put you in a position where you felt forced to do anything you didn’t want to. I’m simply asking for you to show me that I’m not wasting my time taking a special interest in you and your work, how you chose to do that is entirely up to you, _sweetheart_ ,” he purrs. 

You can choose to walk away.

Your mouth is dry, your palms are sweating and you’re fairly sure that your entire body is trembling as Akaashi stares at you with those dark, hungry eyes, waiting for you to speak. There’s a pit in your stomach, a potent, volatile mix of disgust and shame that threatens to claw its way up your throat. You want to run, you want to disappear, you want to burst into tears, but-

You cannot lose this job.

Licking your lips, you give your boss a faint nod.

Akaashi’s answering grin lights up the room, “That’s my girl,” he murmurs and you square your shoulders with what little dignity you have left, step forward and drop to your knees between his legs. “So good for me.”

As your fingers fiddle with his belt buckle, his hands reach for you, one smoothing over your hair, the other cupping your jaw. A shiver wracks through you as his thumb strokes along your cheekbone, “I only want what’s best for you, you understand that, don’t you?”

You don’t answer, slipping your fingers inside his underwear to free his cock from the confines it’s straining against. A shudder ripples through you at the sight of it, long and thick and achingly hard, pre-cum already beading at his slit, but it’s the knowledge of the debasement you’re about to submit yourself to that truly makes you hate yourself.

Yet even as your jaw wobbles and tears well in your eyes, you force yourself to keep going, because what other choice do you have?

You _can’t_ lose this job, and Akaashi knows it.

Akaashi hisses when you wrap your palm around his throbbing length, his grip tightening almost painfully in your hair, but it’s a sound edged with pleasure and _want_ \- though that does little to quell the wave of disgusted self-loathing that burns through you.

The soft pad of his thumb brushes along your cheek once more, this time taking with it the single tear that spills down your face. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he breathes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed :) Comments and kudos always make my day 
> 
> Also feel free to stop by my tumblr @yanderexbabydoll and say hi, shoot me a request, whatever. Hope you guys are all safe and healthy out there!


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